


Lessons Learned

by MelodramaticMrTails



Category: Far Cry 4
Genre: Gloves, Light BDSM, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Sex Toys, Threesome - F/M/M, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 06:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13381983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodramaticMrTails/pseuds/MelodramaticMrTails
Summary: Ajay has grown tired of his datemates fighting all the time. He has an idea to make them get along, even for only a little bit, and get himself some peace and quiet in the mean time.





	Lessons Learned

Ajay would call it a ‘borrowed’ house. Between the last people to own it, who unfortunately died recently, and the new people moving in, they're just going to use it briefly. It's the best way to assure they're not bothered. Amita and Sabal follow him to the little home as asked and then inside. Since he's taken over leading the Golden Path, he tells them what they should be doing lately so he knows they're not busy. Perhaps they think they're in trouble because neither of them speak as they file into the house and Ajay closes the door after them.

They're usually in trouble, though. Ajay drops his bag on the table and looks at the two of them. Amita and Sabal glance at one another, ready to throw each other under the bus in a heartbeat despite clearly having no idea what's going on. Despite getting along a little better lately, mostly because Ajay makes them, it's hard to shake the history they have. Ajay doesn't care about history, though.

“What is this about, brother?” Sabal finally asks. The last time he asked them to meet him in a house like this, he did wave a gun at them. Ajay looks at him and then at Amita. No, they don't get it yet. They're still so dense.

“Take your clothes off,” Ajay instructs. Initially, they're both a little surprised. It takes them a few seconds to realise he's being serious. Amita glances at Sabal out the corner of her eye and Sabal clenches his jaw. They might dislike each other but nine times out of ten, they like Ajay more. He waits patiently and after a few seconds, they finally begin to act. Ajay would be surprised, and somehow not, if they've never been naked around each other before.

They act defensively, to no one's surprise, each of them assuring the other is going to act, too. Sabal pulls his jacket off slowly and only once he's began does Amita start on hers. Fortunately, Ajay has made sure he's left himself plenty of time for this exactly for this reason. As long as nothing major crops up, they have all night. Ajay deserves some down time, anyways.

It's slow and deliberate, not like a strip tease but like the worst game of strip chess, but eventually they're completely naked. Amita doesn't bother covering herself, perhaps more out of spite than anything, and instead crosses her arms under her chest with a nervous little huff. Sabal, on the other hand, makes slightly more of an effort to shield his lap with his hands. They both adamantly look away from each other. Ajay looks them over.

Neither of them are dainty or lithe, only smaller and an odd mixture of fragile from long periods of not enough food and lean from constant physical work. They’re both shorter than Ajay, neither of them by much, but they hold themselves with more command than he ever could- or would. Sabal’s scars are more prominent but not necessarily more, bullet wounds and knife wounds and unreadable marks painting his front side like a guide laying out every step he takes in a fight. Amita’s are quieter, more dangerous, sharp studs of piercing arrows and jagged flesh of animals claws reminding anyone who dares lay eyes on them what she’s done and how much she’s sacrificed to be here.

They’re really gorgeous.

He's been romantically and sexually involved with both of them for a while now. It's even more work than it sounds. Much like they tried to make him choose which one of them should lead the Golden Path, they came to him trying to make him decide which of them he wanted to date. Fortunately for them, instead of picking neither this time, he picked both. They agreed. As long as he's sure he gives them both an equally amount of attention, everything works out surprisingly well.

Only when Ajay approaches them do they look back again, still not looking at each other but watching what he's going to do. Usually they don't do what he says so quietly but he supposes he usually doesn't tell them to strip, either. Ajay runs a gloved hand down Amita’s cleavage and she relaxes her arms from across her chest with a small shudder. He cups one of her breasts softly, the scuffed leather of his gloves barring skin on skin contact. He draws his thumb over her fawn nipple before dragging his fingers down the other.

Sabal watches, trying more to watch Ajay as opposed to what he's doing and failing. Ajay coasts his hand down Amita’s belly and briefly, her lip quivers as she tries not to make a noise. Usually Ajay is the submissive one so this has clearly caught them off guard. He strokes her pussy slowly with his fingers and she's not quite sure what to do with her hands but she closes her eyes. Sabal doesn't. Ajay feels her warmth through his glove and the distant feeling of her curly pubes as he rubs her slowly but surely, circling his fingers around her clit before sliding them through the lips of her cunt and back again. Amita sighs softly.

But of course, he has to show them equal attention. Keeping one hand on her, Ajay's glove already slick with her wetness, he touches Sabal with the other. He jolts initially but doesn't dare move away. Amita returns the less than discrete favor of glancing at him, watching what Ajay is doing as she tries not to rut against him. Ajay trails his hand over Sabal’s collar and down his chest, faintly squeezing one of his pecs in his fingers. He glides his thumb over Sabal’s nipple then the other and with just as minimum effort, they're as hard as Amita’s.

Sabal’s gaze drifts to Amita again and Ajay's hand teasing her cunt but they accidentally catch eyes and abhorrently turn away from each other once more. Ajay rolls his eyes. As his fingers trace down, Sabal moves his hands from over his mostly limp dick. Mostly. Sabal swallows as Ajay strokes his cock, coaxing it to grow hard in his hand. They're stubborn but currently, quiet and subdue. Amita’s slick rolls down the inside of her thighs and Sabal’s growing erection beads precum.

Their breathing is heavy and surrounding and Ajay can feel his own cock stirring to life. When he pulls his hands away, Amita’s cunt eagerly dripping wet and Sabal hard as a rock, they both let out longing sighs. Ajay wipes his gloves off on his jeans as he returns to his bag by the door to look through it.

“Ajay,” Amita says.

“Be quiet,” Ajay replies before she can get any further. He gives them both a look over his shoulder and they reel back a little but offer silent understanding. This isn't going to go well if they start yapping at each other. He goes back to his rummaging. “Unless you're telling me you want to stop, I don't want to hear it.” Neither of them speak.

Ajay finds what he's looking for, five pre-cut pieces of rope, and unties them from their bundle. He makes his way back towards them and both their faces are creeping red. Amita blushes more from her ears and Sabal from his neck, their beautiful tawny skin glowing with excitement. He takes a shorter piece of rope and dangles the rest from his shoulder before running his gloved hand along it to remove any burs.

Amita’s hands twitch as if she thinks about offering them but this isn't for her hands. Instead, Ajay brings the rope around her neck and she blinks in surprise. Even so, she stays still. Sabal watches curiously as he works, being able to see better than Amita at the moment. Ajay makes an intricate knot where the two ends meet, each tangle more functional than pretty. It's not tight, it's not supposed to be, and it sits low on her neck.

When he's done, Amita touches the rope questioningly but not the knot. It would take a survivalist a couple hours to figure this knot out but then again, it's not a survivalist knot. She has more of a chance of sliding it off over her head. Done with hers, Ajay takes the other short length and turns to Sabal. Again, he runs his hand over it to remove the burs before pulling it around his throat. Sabal tilts his head up a touch to give him more room to work and likewise, Amita watches what he's doing.

Once they're both collared, they look at each other. They're smart but confused. Ajay moves on to the other pieces of rope. He starts with Sabal this time, walking around behind him knowing he'll stay still. Questioningly, Sabal offers his hands and Ajay ties them together, tightly this time. That's not quite enough, though. Even if they won't, Ajay isn't going to give them the idea of wriggling free. With the longer length of rope this time, he starts back to work on those intricate knots, binding Sabal’s forearms tightly together behind him and tangling his thumbs in with them.

Ajay learned most of his rope work in the army. Not _from_ the army, but in it. It's rare he gets to use it though. He has a leaning towards guys and guys have a leaning towards dominating him. Ajay doesn’t have any complaints. He's been told he ties a little too tight. He doesn't see the problem.

Sabal flexes his arms when Ajay is done, testing what he can't see and wriggling his fingers to feel them. The rope digs in when he moves too much and he quickly learns not to. Ajay takes the other section of rope and moves to do the same for Amita. She hesitates a little more about giving him her hands, seeing what Sabal has gotten for it, but she does anyways. He works just as quick and just as tight, a nice consistency between the two pieces. Again, they’re more functional than pretty but Ajay supposes rope has never been quite his favorite anyways.

Once done, Amita tests her own binds, shifting to see how tight they are and moving her thumbs to see if she can wriggle them free. She can’t, neither of them can, and if they want free they’ll have to ask for it. Ajay circles back around and they look at him. They’re uncomfortable. They’re naked and defenseless and they don’t like it but, of course, that’s sort of the point.

Which leaves Ajay with a last and longest rope. They watch him as he folds the rope to make a few haphazard measurements. It’s not until he starts attaching part of it to the rope around Amita’s neck that they seem to catch on. He ties a couple more knots into the one already around her neck, leaving two different length strands. The longer one he uses to make the same knots in Sabal’s rope.

Ajay holds the loose ends in his hand and they look at one another apprehensively. He thinks they need a little demonstration. He pulls on one of the ropes, not particularly hard, but enough to clearly catch them off guard when the rope between them is suddenly shortened. Being forced closer to each other, quickly makes them reel back, yanking against the rope between them and causing the loose ropes around their necks to tighten. They quickly get the full picture.

“Ajay,” Sabal says quickly.

“Do you want to stop?” Ajay cuts him off again. Sabal opens his mouth briefly but ultimately, doesn’t say anything else. He couldn’t say for sure what it is, if they’re both just too stubborn or if perhaps they are actually making an attempt to stand each other for once or maybe they just know it’s taken a lot of work on his part to make time for this and they don’t want to ruin it. Regardless, they stay quiet.

“If I knew it was going to be this easy to shut you up, I would have done it sooner,” Ajay murmurs. This time, they both open their mouths to begin saying something but the pointed look he gives them makes them stop. Amita huffs quietly while Sabal frowns. Sometimes peace and quiet is nice. Sometimes.

Ajay keeps the rope ends in hand as he approaches them again. They seem a little less thrilled about this now but they’ll get over it. After all, they’ve gotten along for this long already. He kisses Amita fleetingly on the mouth before moving to kiss her jaw and neck much more fondly. Again, he rubs his fingers against her hot cunt and plucks her attentive clit. Her breath hitches as he presses a pair of gloved fingers into her, always quiet as if moaning is equivalent to giving up.

While Ajay may be irritated with them more often that he’d like to be, he’s not mean. He knows their needs better than they do, half because they refuse to acknowledge their needs and half because they don’t understand them. That’s why he starts getting to his knees before he pulls Amita down with him. She’s less apprehensive to it with him doing the same. The rope between them gives them just enough room. Ajay kisses her more firmly now, fingering her slick cunt and holding back just enough to make her rut her hips.

With his other hand, Ajay strokes Sabal’s twitching cock. He breaks their kiss and withdraws his fingers at the same time, making Amita huff impatiently. She looks up at Sabal and then to his cock. Sabal looks at the ceiling, it’s easier for him to forget Amita is here that way. Ajay runs his tongue along the length of Sabal’s cock and places his lips on the tip. He palms his balls in one hand while he takes the head of his cock between his lips.

Amita watches him with more interest than he expected. Ajay bobs his head shallowly, holding back using his tongue too much or stroking the rest of it too much, teasing Sabal the same way he teased Amita. Fair’s fair. When he pulls off again, Sabal lets out a breathy curse in Nepali, the first inch or two of his cock slick with spit and dripping precum more heavily. Ajay licks his lips.

“Help Sabal, Amita,” he instructs. They way she looks at him makes him think he may have accidentally asked her to ride naked through town on a feral tiger instead. The look he returns is a silent, _unless_ you want to stop. Amita looks up at Sabal again, the underside of Sabal’s now clenched jaw. Maybe it’s curiosity, wondering where he’s going with this. They always think there’s something else going on, like Ajay is going to deem one of them the ‘winner’ after this and it’s just got to be them.

It’s a nasty personality trait.

Ajay doesn’t have to specify, not with such a clear demonstration and her hands tied. She presses her teeth together irritably for a moment before leaning in and fleetingly lapping the side of his cock. If not for the fact that Ajay already knows their preferences, Sabal prefers men and women not like Amita while Amita prefers women and men not like Sabal, he would say there has always been sexual tension between them. Instead, he knows this is a much more recent thing- dating him recent.

This sexual tension only arose once they realised he absolutely was sexually active with both of them. Never while they were both in the same town, obviously, because Ajay can truly only deal with so much yelling in his life. Who he slept with first is a secret he'll die with.

“Is that helping, Amita?” Ajay asks curiously. Amita gives him an annoyed look. Resigned, or at least too stubborn, she more fully runs her tongue along the length. Sabal’s too stubborn to moan now. Ajay leaves her at this for a few moments, rubbing his own aching cock through his jeans as she licks his shaft. It’s slow and more cruel than unwilling, though, and Ajay takes her chin in his hand instead. He feels her breath hitch a little as he guides her mouth to the tip, a noise he knows all too well as excited.

“Don’t bite him, Amita,” he warns and Sabal’s skin jumps at the idea that she might. And she might. Won’t, but might. She opens her mouth without having to be prompted and takes the head of his cock into her mouth. He uses his grip, far too light to be forceful, to bob her head a few times until he can let go and she does it herself. Amita takes it to the back of her mouth, slower than Ajay had done, but surprisingly more willing to tease less, her tongue occasionally poking out as she laps at his skin. Sabal grunts lowly.

Ajay unzips his own jeans, pushing the waistband of his boxers down to free his aching cock, and strokes himself leisurely. He reaches to pet Amita’s hair and she looks at him out the side of her eye but doesn’t stop. Sabal’s cock is larger than his, both in girth and length and not insignificantly. There are few men that Ajay have met with personalities like Sabal’s and dicks to back it up.

But it is manageable.

“You look like you could use some help,” he murmurs. Amita begins to pull back, misinterpreting his words, and Ajay holds her head a little firmer to stop her. She eases, swallows. “Not that way.” Her cunt’s so wet he can see how slick the inside of her thighs are, how she adjusts her hips to try to stimulate herself even a little bit unsuccessfully. Ajay reaches to give her a hand and as he strokes her twitching pussy, she sinks back down. Sabal exhales another quiet curse, gradually but slowly giving up on trying to pretend Amita isn’t giving him pleasure.

Ajay pushes Amita’s head and she winces as his hard cock enters her throat. He relents enough to let her pull back and breath a second before pushing again. She doesn’t need much guiding. The more she takes, the more Ajay fingers her twitching cunt, and when she stops, he does. When he releases her head, she continues on her own. He moves in between them, placing a grazing kiss on the shaft before leaning in to take one of Sabal’s testicles in his mouth. He pulls off with a slick sound.

“Fuck,” Sabal grunts. Now that was in English. Ajay lets out an amused noise as he withdraws his fingers from Amita’s warm cunt, much to her displeasure, and shifts around to kneel behind Sabal now. He runs a hand along the inside of his thigh, and his other hand, still slick from Amita’s wetness, he coasts from taint to puckered asshole. Sabal tenses briefly and relaxes just as quick. Ajay leans in, wetting his mouth with his tongue before pressing his tongue against Sabal’s hole.

This gets a more surprised noise out of him.

Sabal’s knees are already weak when Ajay laps at his asshole. He’s too sturdy to collapse, Ajay knows from experience, unlike himself who’s dropped Amita all of once before she decided that was never going to happen again. Understandably. He gets close, though, with Amita throating his cock and Ajay’s tongue in his hole. Ajay sits back again. He pulls Amita back by the rope around her neck and she catches her breath.

Grabbing her by her arms, Ajay helps her back to her feet and Sabal looks more peeved that she got him to moan than anything else. Ajay pulls them both towards the table, backing Amita into it so he can hoist her up. He kisses her again, her mouth wet with spit and precum, and he lifts her just enough to get her further back on the table. She instinctively spreads her thighs when he crouches and Ajay presses his mouth to her dripping pussy.

Amita rasps out a noise as he presses the broadness of his tongue to her clit and sucks it so faintly. She’d never admit it, but she comes so easily. It’s exactly why she controls the pace when they have sex and exactly why Ajay knows the exact pace to keep her on edge. He traces her cunt with his tongue, kissing her folds and teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue at every pass.

When he pulls away, again, she lets out a small, frustrated sigh. His mouth is coated with her slick. Ajay grabs Sabal by his rope to kiss him now, pushing his tongue into his mouth and getting a quiet groan in reply. Then he grabs Sabal by his hair and yanks him towards the table. Just as instinctively, Amita closes her knees when he gets too close. Ajay uses one hand to spread her thighs again while he uses the other to shoves Sabal’s face against the table by his neck. Still, the rope is just long enough.

“Amita did you a favor, you should return it, Sabal,” Ajay says. Without his hands to hold him up, Sabal is forced into an awkward position on his face and shoulders but again, not unmanageable. Unfortunately, Ajay isn’t sure if this is going to be pleasurable for Amita. He would bet an awful lot of rupees that Sabal hasn’t eaten pussy in his entire life. Old dogs, new tricks, or something to that extent.

Ajay has to shove Sabal forward more so he can actually reach. Amita’s knees jolt as Sabal tentatively makes to copy what he’s seen Ajay do. He complains less having been serviced first. It’s harder to see but Sabal’s certainly moving his head enough. Amita’s face is twisted, sort of in confusion but mostly in holding back her noises the same as Sabal had tried. She’s likely to be more successful.

“Don’t bite,” Ajay repeats. Sabal is more likely to do it by mistake than malice. “You know where her clit is, Sabal. If she doesn’t come, you don’t.” He circles around again, digging through his pocket to find the lube he’s brought with him this time. He drizzles a fair amount onto his leather cladded fingers before sliding them between Sabal’s checks. Sabal shudders as Ajay thrusts a finger in him.

Perhaps trying to suffocate him, Amita clenches her thighs around his head as she tries to steady herself on her tied hands. Ajay thinks a little lack of oxygen is fair compensation for a partial deepthroat. He fingers Sabal slowly at first, more to tease him than out of necessity. Sabal likes receiving more than he likes admitting it. Amita tosses her head back as she tries to buck against Sabal, more interested in using him for her pleasure than letting him work. This, clear by the way she gives Ajay an annoyed look, doesn’t work as she wants. Good.

Ajay presses in another finger and almost misses the muffled groan. He doesn’t let Sabal have much, either, and it’s not long until he’s pulling them out again, leaving behind a twitchy, needy hole. Amita looks like she wants to say something but if she does, she doesn’t. She tightens her legs around Sabal’s head even more, still obviously on the edge Ajay has brought her too but unable to get any further. Ajay reaches into his pocket again to find one of the condom’s he’s brought along and rips it open with his teeth.

“You know, he’d probably lick better if he could breath,” Ajay comments as he rolls the condom over his rather neglected cock. “More of a suggestion, really.” Amita takes it as such because she certainly doesn’t loosen in the slightest. Sabal will be fine. Ajay uses the lube again this time to slick his cock thoroughly. He takes Sabal’s hip in his hand as he uses the other to line up his cock. The jolt that goes down Sabal’s back is visible.

Amita only loosens her legs a little when she becomes a little too enthralled in watching Ajay slowly sink his hard cock into Sabal. She seems surprised perhaps? Like she didn't expect Sabal to receive. It surprised Ajay, too. Even with the new room, Sabal doesn't immediately try to withdraw. No, he's stubborn too, after all. He's determined to make her come just to prove he can or maybe out of spite. Sabal’s fingers clench as Ajay bucks into him, his still hard cock now leaking precum onto the floor.

Ajay fucks him slow and deep, assuring he won't be getting off any sooner than he can get Amita off. If they really think Ajay has put aside all this time for this to be the end of the line, they're sorely mistake. As sorely mistaken as he wants them sore tomorrow. They argue less that way.

Amita breathes harder all of a sudden, her thighs clasped down again as she tries not to openly groan. Maybe Sabal’s figured it out after all. She closes her eyes, once again trying to rut her hips into his face but this time it's less to use him and more to guide him to the right spots. Ajay thrusts a little quicker, watching Amita, her expression, her thighs, the twitch of her knees, for cues. She's close.

“Shit,” Amita rasps out, her heels dug into Sabal’s shoulders hard enough to bruise. “You useless-”

“Quietly,” Ajay says and she snares her frustration via her teeth in her lip. He reaches over Sabal, grinding his cock deeply into him in the process, and plucks at one of Amita’s hard nipples. Her breath catches again. The suddenness of her orgasm is likely attributed more to Sabal stumbling his way through but all the same, she lets out a noise without warning that looks like it surprises herself more. For several long seconds, she clamps Sabal’s head against her pussy before finally letting him go all together. His rough face is drenched in her slick.

Ajay pulls back and pulls out.

“Ajay,” Sabal urges hastily.

“Shut up, Sabal,” Ajay tells him firmly and he grunts irritably. He told Sabal he could come if Amita did, Ajay remembers, and he will. Again, he reposition them. He pulls Sabal upright again and Amita off the table, the two of them now staring mildly at one another with their reddened mouths and slick faces. Ajay pushes Sabal down to his knees first, then Amita, making them balance of their knees as opposed to resting on their asses. He returns to his bag beside the door, the rope ends neatly stuffed into his pocket, and rustles around again. It's more to make them wait, honestly.

They both look openly startled by the dildo he pulls out. Yogi had given it to him, claiming he and Reggie had found it but it wasn't really their style. It's not really Ajay's style, either. It's thick and long, thicker and longer than Sabal by not an insignificant amount, and a nice bright blue with an even thicker, bulbous knot at the bottom. He runs his tongue over it, leaving a clear trail of spit in his wake, before pressing the tapered tip into his mouth. He watches the two of them as he stretches his jaw as wide as he can go around the toy. When he pulls off, spit stringing to it, they both swallow, one right after the other.

“I didn't think this out,” Ajay murmurs, partially to himself as he pulls one of the bigger condoms he has from his pocket. He opens it between his teeth and rolls it down the dildo a little at a time. That's awfully snug.

“Ajay,” Sabal says and this time, he hasn't conveniently forgotten. Ajay stops to look at him. For the first time, it sounds like he might actually want to stop. Ajay doesn't blame him, this thing's big. Several seconds pass as Sabal looks at him unsurely.

“Say the word and we'll move on to something else,” he assures. This seems to- comfort Sabal. Wait. Ajay tries not to sigh aloud. Did these two really think that if they were to say ‘no’ to something, that would be it and everything would be over. Actually, Ajay isn't that surprised. They think this is a challenge, after all, like this is something they have to do for Ajay to love them and any sign of stopping is grounds for immediate discard. They're really fucking dense sometimes.

At least they know now even if it's too late to tell them earlier. Ajay had thought that would be obvious but he supposes that's what _he_ gets for thinking, too. He's not sure it matters, anyways. It's still a competition to them. Forfeiting anything is just giving the other something to hold onto later, a poker chip to wager away in a different argument in a different place.

But right now, Sabal isn't looking at Amita. He doesn't even seem to notice her, sat not even five feet away, not even four. Instead, he's looking at Ajay and the toy in his hand. Several expressions cross his face in a few moments and Ajay can track them about as well as he can track a snake in a sandstorm- surprisingly well. Concern, uncertainty, scheming, excitement then trust perhaps but Ajay thinks he might have lost this metaphorical snake by then. Amita is calculating in a way that's more rehashing the situation and exactly what's going on.

“Did you have something to say, Sabal?” Ajay presses again. Sabal’s expression changes again to something more familiar; confidence. Give or take the needy desperation from his aching, throbbing cock.

“No, brother,” he says. “Nothing.” Ajay is neither disappointed or impressed. They can do this just as easy as they can do anything else. He looks at Amita.

“What about you?” he asks. The look she gives him assures that he'll know if she has something to say. They have lines and Ajay isn't looking to cross them but it's fun getting close. He's enjoying himself. He likes making Amita and Sabal feel good and he especially likes them quiet and defenseless. It's a nice change of pace. In the end, though, he supposes this is more about trying to get them out of their comfort zone. Their tiny, tiny comfort zone.

Ajay goes back to what he was doing. He adjusts the condom on the toy to make sure it won't rip before taking his lube out again and thickly drooling it on. They watch him intensely as he rubs it in, stroking the toy he can barely get his hand around to assure he doesn't miss a spot. He pulls the condom off his own cock, tossing it aside to discard later. When he approaches them again, Sabal swallows nervously. Ajay sets the flared base of the dildo on the ground and positions it appropriately, Sabal trying to watch over his shoulder.

Of course, Ajay knows it's not really his style because he gave it that ol’ college-substitute military try. He's learned not to be so picky about a lot of things in Kyrat. It won't hurt Sabal. He circles back around, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Sit,” Ajay instructs. Again, Sabal hesitates. Perhaps he had himself convinced it wasn't as big as he thought. He lowers himself a little, his breath catching as the slick tip presses against him. The tapered tip isn't the hard part, though. Sabal’s cock jerks as he slowly but surely sits on the unyielding silicon toy. Clearly having given up on trying not to look at each other, Amita stares, face quietly excited and ears bright pink. Ajay looks at his watch pointedly.

Sabal can't help but gasp and groan as the toy stretches him further and further with every inch. He's so close to coming, though, he just wants more. That's just how Sabal is, once he wants something, he won't be shaken from it. It's as much of a virtue as it is a vice. He shudders, chest quivering as he manages to take most of it, his ass resting on the rounded knot at the bottom without seeming to realise this. There's a small bump on his lean, distantly malnourished stomach now that makes Ajay's own cock twitch.

Amita swallows this time, once more beginning to move her hips to try to appease the throbbing need in her cunt. She could easily sit back and this would be twice as easy for her but she doesn't seem to consider it. Ajay attributes it to her being too distracted. Sabal tries to catch his breath.

“You two can't do anything without my help, can you,” Ajay murmurs. He puts his foot in the crook of Sabal’s shoulder and pushes. A truly pathetic noise slips out before Sabal can stop it. Delight flares behind Amita’s eyes. Sabal clenches his teeth to prevent anymore from slipping out as Ajay pushes him further onto the dildo. He squirms and rasps and his chest shakes but he's drooling from both his mouth and his cock. The shape of the knot means Ajay only has to push him so far before it pops in suddenly.

Sabal whimpers loudly, the only thing stopping him from shouting being his teeth in his lip, and he comes violently. He's clearly been pent up because his cock gushes cum more than usual as he dry sobs. The bulge in his stomach stands out a little more. Ajay removes his foot and Sabal drops his head in exhaustion, moaning and panting as he grows over sensitive in his orgasm.

Taking the rope in hand again, Ajay shortens the distance between Amita and Sabal suddenly. With Sabal sat more sturdy now, it's Amita that loses her balance when they're suddenly pulled together. Ajay shoves her by the shoulder into Sabal, shortening the rope even more until there's hardly an inch between them. She leans over him awkwardly, her chin in his shoulder and her shoulder pressed into his chest as she tries to keep her face away from him. So close together and yet, they irritably keep their heads turned away from each other like an art piece Ajay misses the meaning of. They’re smart enough not to pull away from each other too much, clearly aware that one wrong move will end them in an even worse position with the rope around their throats.

Oral sex is one thing but having their faces so close together is obviously a whole different story because they're both immediately tense again. Sabal’s breathing is intense in Amita’s ear now and she makes a disgusted face about it. Ajay pulls a condom from his bag, he was sure to bring more than enough, and again, slides it over his cock. With his foot, he moves Amita’s knees back and makes her put more of her weight on Sabal.

“Try not to fall,” Ajay comments as he rubs his gloved hand between Amita’s thighs again and strokes her hot pussy. “I don’t want you to choke to death.” Amita huffs noise that doesn’t need words to be a warning to Sabal to not let that happen- or at the very least, don’t do anything so she can make sure that doesn’t happen. Sabal scowls mildly and in a move that is pure spite, he yanks his head a little, tensing the rope between them and briefly gagging them both.

Ajay withholds a laugh. They rub off on each other more than they realise.

Amita, likely deciding not to get into a choking war right now, holds off on her vengeance for later. Instead, she focuses more on Ajay’s fingers against her cunt. He pushes a pair of fingers into her and watches her thighs tremble just a touch, the cool leather of his gloves still unusual and new. In the position they’re in, it’s hard for Sabal to do anything but watch, not that he makes much of an attempt not to. He looks at Ajay as he joins them on the floor, then over the scarred expanse of Amita’s back, her tied hands and bitten nails.

Ajay presses his cock between the hot folds of her pussy and her fingers tense as he slides in. Just like Sabal’s panting is heavy in her ear, her slight groans make Sabal shudder. While Sabal had, _is_ trying to stay quiet, Amita makes less of an effort now. It’s Ajay now, after all, that’s giving her pleasure and she wants him and Sabal alike to know it. He reaches around to roll his fingers against her clit as he pushes in and she moans, not loudly but audibly.

She's just come but he knows he can get her there again so easily. He doesn't, of course, but he teases and gets her so close again just so she knows. Amita’s intentionally vocal noises become a little more sincere. Sabal, on the other hand, can do this himself. His spent cock is already twitching to life again watching, and listening, to Ajay slowly fuck Amita against him. He tries not to move too much, as if he'll forget about the sizable dildo stuffed in him, but every rock Ajay gives Amita rocks Sabal, too.

They groan in unison.

Ajay is more aroused than he's ever been. He hasn't touched himself much and has only gone as far as is necessary specifically to hold out. He wouldn't describe it as hurt but it's definitely uncomfortable. Even now, he's looking to hold off a little longer and his cock aches as he pulls out again. Amita sighs impatiently.

“You're hard again?” Ajay says and Sabal stubbornly casts his eyes away from Amita again. He reaches between them to loosen the rope a little and allow Amita to sit back without having to lean on him. This turns out to be worse, of course, because now they're face to face and trying to lean away leaves them gasping for breath. Amita would rather choke than lean on Sabal, though, and Sabal clearly feels the same.

Ajay pushes Amita’s knees again with his foot, forcing her closer to Sabal but also giving her a better position to hold herself up. He walks around them and they follow him with their eyes, anything to not look at one another. They're very pretty like this in all honesty. Ajay leans down between their faces, kissing Amita long and hard before turning to do the same to Sabal. They're also tired, out of breath and panting from both their orgasms and the physical necessity of their binds.

Again, Ajay sits behind Amita only this time, her back and arms are pressed against his chest. Her fingers cling to his jacket as he runs his hands down her thighs. He reaches around her, stroking Sabal’s growing erection until it's attentive and hard again.

“I think you could help each other out,” Ajay murmurs. He feels the shiver that goes through Amita, perhaps of uncertainty even after everything. When he lifts her from under her thighs, she's immediately tense again. Ajay positions her knees over Sabal’s, setting her in his lap and helping her keep her balance from behind. Sabal jolts a little, for once feeling the searing warmth of her pussy somewhere besides his face.

“Ajay,” Amita says. Ajay pauses, he waits. Nothing else is said. His own dick is firm against her back as he rubs her pussy with one hand and strokes Sabal’s cock in the other. They both stare downward, watching what he does and trying to guess what he's going to do. They think too much.

“Sabal is big but I think you can manage it,” Ajay assures in her ear as he presses Sabal’s cock against her belly. She clenches her fingers in his jacket harder. Using the rope around her arms again, Ajay helps hoist her up enough so he can position the head of Sabal’s cock against her cunt. He presses it against her clit as he goes, Sabal’s cock twitching as Amita’s slick drools down it.

“If either of you have anything to say, now is the time for it,” Ajay says. Neither of them speak. He doesn't think they wouldn't if they wanted to, not about this. They're relaxed now, though, even if they don't seem it. He's gotten them hot and excited and on edge, forced to be close to each other for the long night and made to support each other in ways they certainly wouldn't have otherwise. Ajay thinks he's succeeded in what he wanted to do here.

“Sit,” Ajay murmurs, steadying Sabal’s cock to assure it stays in position. Amita looks back at him, searching above anything else. If she finds it, he's not sure what it is. Sabal tightens his jaw as she slowly, very slowly, lowers herself. He tilts his head upwards but doesn't pull against the rope, grunting hotly. After a long night of shallow teasing and grazing touches, this is far more satisfying than usual for both of them. Ajay kisses Amita’s neck and caresses her breasts as she gradually takes Sabal to the root.

He helps her settle her knees to assure she can hold herself up before he gets to his feet. All he can hear is their breathing, rasping and short, as they bite their noises and settle their nerves. Ajay pulls his pack of cigarettes from his bag, flicking one out with his wrist and pulling it out with his mouth. He stands by the door as he strikes a match and puffs his cigarette to life before shaking it out. He looks at his gloves, filthy with cum and slick and lube from the events of the night. Fortunately they clean pretty easy.

“Oh,” he says, breathing some smoke from his nose. “I guess you guys should have used a condom, too.” They're alert again all at once.

“Sabal,” Amita begins sharply.

“Amita,” Ajay says and she bites her lip nervously. Sabal grinds his teeth. “It would be pretty bad if you two had a kid together.”

“Sabal,” Amita hisses quieter. Ajay knows this isn't a thing that's going to happen, of course, he wouldn't put them in that position. He knows things that, perhaps, they'd rather he didn't or perhaps, even they don’t. Since taking over the Golden Path, Ajay has been in the art of collecting information. He walks to them again, plucking the cigarette from his mouth as he crouches beside them and they look at him with a desperation he sort of loves.

“You probably shouldn't come, then,” he says, taking another drag on his cigarette and exhaling smoke between them.

“Ajay,” Sabal urges gently. But, they know how to stop this. They only have to say so and Ajay will cut them free immediately. A knock. Amita jolts which, in turn, makes Sabal jolt twice as much, grunting between his teeth as she inherently clenches down around him. This, admittedly, is not part of the plan. Ajay straightens up, putting his hand on his kukri more out of habit than true concern.

“Sorry, Ajay, I know you're resting but I think you'll want to see this,” a familiar voice says. It's just one of the Golden Path members that have been helping him out recently. Ajay tucks himself back into his jeans quickly, making no effort to stop from looking disheveled but at least trying to look decent. He can nearly see Amita’s and Sabal’s hearts racing.

Ajay cracks the door, assuring he's well enough in it to prevent any unnecessary peeks in but the man waiting for him isn't really interested in doing so. He hands Ajay a folder and briefly, Ajay flips it open to read what's inside. His gloves are filthy.

“Uh, thanks,” Ajay comments, waving the folder a little. “I'll- deal with this.” He closes the door without really waiting for any more information. This really could have waited but Ajay supposes no one around here really knows what an emergency is. Once a couple seconds have passed and there's not another disturbance, Amita and Sabal both breath again. Ajay flips through the folder a little more, reading it more thoroughly.

“He could have seen us, Ajay,” Amita says irritably.

“We’d be a disgrace,” Sabal agrees.

“Shut up,” Ajay replies coldly, never taking his eyes off the file. He's not reading it anymore. “If I want the entire Golden Path to know I can make you grovel, they will. Now be _quiet_.” He gives them a look over his folder long enough to watch expressions of offense and quiet arousal touch their features but they don't speak again. Ajay tosses the file down and rubs out the remaining stub of his cigarette under his shoe before unzipping his jeans again.

He returns to their side and they watch him like hawks, red ears, red throats, heated eyes painted with longing. Ajay strokes his cock, still a little damp with Amita’s slick, and puts it between their faces. Inherently, this makes them look at each other and they stubbornly refuse. Ajay tightens the rope between them, giving them even less room than they already had, and he can feel their labored breaths against his cock. Trying to keep their eyes cast down, they cautiously lap at his dick, not wanting to accidentally brush against each other.

Ajay groans lowly, stroking their heads in praise as they work. He holds Sabal’s head steady, fingers tangled in his hair, and pushes his dick into his mouth. Sabal shudders, lavishing his cock with much more ease than he did Amita’s pussy. Ajay pulls back, taking Amita’s head in his hand to do the same. She looks up at him as she licks, obviously trying and failing to not clench down on Sabal judging by his withheld groan. When he holds his cock between them again, they return to mouthing at him without hesitation this time.

The rope is too short to let them do much more but Ajay thrusts between their lips, a sort of weird sensation that isn't all together pleasurable but the sight of their red, shiny lips pressed against either side of his cock certainly is. Amita squirms, not wanting to rut her hips but simultaneously finding it hard not to want to get off with the hard cock given to her. Sabal winces his eyes closed in response, making an equal effort to try not to come between her silky cunt and the toy he feels buried in his ass with every clench.

The more one of them wiggles, the more the other does, leaving them both a tense, desperate mess as they try so hard not to. Even then, they keep licking and sucking his cock, something that inevitably makes their struggle worse. Ajay pulls his condom off again, feels their lips and tongue flush against his throbbing erection. He's close, much more pent up from the night than they are. They cringe away from each other briefly when they brush against one another and Ajay tightens his hold on their heads to stop them from choking themselves.

Ajay groans deeply, thrusting his cock between them with a couple hard jabs before pulling back. They catch their breath, as much as they can, and minutely turn towards him to stop from having their faces so close together. He strokes his cock in hand as they look up at him, still awkwardly squirming from sensation after sensation. With a pleased moan, a blissful orgasm washes over Ajay and his cock paints long ribbons of cum across their faces. Sweat and spit and cum drip from their chins.

He moves to his bag again.

“Don't move so much,” Sabal says under his breath, far too tired to hiss it out like he wants to.

“Shut up. A ‘man’ should have better self control,” Amita scoffs back.

“The Nepali word for ‘let's stop’ sounds an awful lot like English chatter,” Ajay comments. He pulls his camera out and only once he gets close and they realise what he has do their expressions become alarmed. Surprisingly, though, they both manage to hold their tongues this time. Amita makes a sharp turn to jerk her head away and consequently, bashes her head into Sabal’s. Sabal jumps and Amita gasps, both of them stunned still as they try to overcome the sudden sensation at their groins.

Ajay snaps a couple pictures. He'll delete them later, he knows the embarrassment of knowing there are naked pictures of yourself just floating around the internet, but they're good pictures. The hue of Amita’s ears has crawled into her face and Sabal’s jaw is clenched so hard he might break it off. He crouches beside them, showing them the few pictures he's taken and this close, he can hear their rapid hearts. He sets it aside.

“I didn't expect you to stay hard,” Ajay says as he coasts his hand down Amita’s belly and applies a little bit of pressure right where he curly pubes begin to thin out. He can feel Sabal’s twitching cock inside her and so can she. Amita shudders and he coasts his hand down further to pinch her clit.

“I'm glad you two have put your differences aside,” he murmurs. Sabal grunts hotly. It couldn't have been anymore on cue than this. Amita gasps, immediately trying to lift herself again and choking them both for the effort. Ajay loosens their rope, giving her room to hastily pull off Sabal’s cock. Cum trickles down the inside of her thigh and she looks at Sabal furiously.

“That could be bad,” Ajay says. He pulls Amita back on her ass by her rope and moves her feet out from under her. In the same move, he grabs Sabal by the back of the neck and once again, shoves his face into Amita’s swarthy pussy. “Quickly, Sabal.”

Obviously, he doesn't need any further instruction. Amita’s surprised gasp and slight toss of her head assures that Sabal is much better at this when there's something at risk. Or he _thinks_ there's something at risk. Amita doesn't clamp down this time, instead arching her back and clenching her thighs like she's trying to help him. Ajay runs a hand over Sabal’s ass, pressing against the silicon toy that stretches him obscenely wide and getting a sharp, raspy noise for it.

The next is definitely a whimper though as Ajay grabs the toy by the base and slowly pulls on it. With a little effort, the knot pops out and Sabal gasps audibly. He's too tapped out to get hard again even as his cock still drips cum onto the floor. Amita groans tiredly, her eyes closed and mouth partially open as she breathes. Ajay pulls the rest of the toy out, leaving Sabal’s gaping hole twitching and sore. He presses a pair of fingers in him and feels how loose he is now.

“Shit,” Amita huffs and her knees tighten as she orgasms again. The aftermath leaves her too tired to do much more than lean back on her hands and pant even as Sabal still diligently works. Ajay pulls him up by his arms, allowing him to sit up and get his sore knees unbent. They look at each other, too exhausted to even look upset.

Ajay gathers up the used condoms to throw away while they catch their breath. He tucks himself back into his pants.

“Ajay, that was-” Amita begins.

“You're not done,” Ajay replies, looking back at them. A brief look of panicked dread arises.

“Brother,” Sabal says quickly. It is interesting to Ajay that out of everything, being too tired is the only thing serious enough to make them stop. Probably. He's not actually sure because he takes his kukri off his belt and they're both immediately silent again. It wasn't supposed to be a threat. Ajay stabs it into the ground near them, firmly enough to keep it upright and they stare at it before nervously looking back at him.

“You should untie yourselves,” he says. “Unless you want to stay that way.” There's a small flare of renewed energy as they glare at each other instead. “And unless you want to be picking up your fingers, I'd suggest helping each other.” Ajay turns back to put some of his things back into his bag.

“Oh, you can talk to each other now,” he assures.

“What's wrong with you!” Amita shouts.

“What's wrong with me?” Sabal shouts back. “I told you to stop moving!”

“Oh, I'm sorry Sabal, I know you like your women like corpses in bed!” she snaps. “Are you sure that wouldn't have just made you come faster?” Ajay pulls his jacket off, semi folding it before draping it over the table with his bag then pulling off his sweatshirt, too. It's cold around here but he's sticky from sweat now and the room is humid and warm from sex. He takes his gloves off inside out before putting them away.

“It would have made me come faster than whatever you were doing,” Sabal growls. Ajay plops himself in a chair and uses a cloth to clean his face a little before properly cleaning his dick off. “How you ever get Ajay off is a miracle in itself.”

“Well, at least he has a dick,” Amita snarls. “We wouldn't want to make you actually have to work at oral sex.” Sabal moves towards the kukri, inevitably yanking against the rope when Amita’s focused more on freeing her thumbs, and chokes them both. “You idiot, sit still!”

“At least I can suck a dick!” Sabal snaps. “Come _here_. We need to cut the rope.” Ajay checks his watch.

“We need to get this rope off our necks first,” Amita replies irritably.

“If we cut our hands free, we can just untie the rope,” Sabal stresses.

“If you'd like to sever your fingers off then be my guest,” Amita scoffs.

“How does freeing our necks help stop that?” Sabal snaps back.

“One of us has to see and we can't do that when we're this close together,” she assures. Ajay thinks this part might have been the worst of his ideas. He takes the folder off the table to actually read it this time.

“I know how to cut myself free,” Sabal huffs.

“Shut up,” Amita snaps. “Come here, I almost got my thumbs free.”

“Don't tell me to shut up.”

“ _Come here._ ”

“Great, our thumbs are free. _Now_ what, smartest woman in Kyrat?”

“Once again, I have to walk you through _everything_. Lay down, I'll loosen the rope.”

“You lay down, I'll do it.”

“Oh Sabal, you never told me you learned how to untie a knot. Just lay down, you stupid dhole.”

“There. Now help me cut my hands free.”

“Oh no, me first. I know you and I know you'll try to leave me tied up.”

“Ajay's right there!”

Ajay looks at his watch again. It takes them nearly half an hour but eventually, the two of them manage to get themselves free with minimum cuts. They sit on the floor, now even more exhausted from yelling at each other, and rub the embedded marks along their forearms. So maybe Ajay ties a little too tight, they'll have bruises and rope burns later, but no one around here will take any notice. Now free, Amita raises her hand like she wants to smack Sabal but stills it lest they get into a fist fight. Sabal gives her an aggravated look, silently scolding her for even thinking about it.

“If you're done yelling at each other,” Ajay says as he gets to his feet. Slowly, they stand again and follow him to the bed. It's a little small but Ajay pushes Sabal to the back, lays beside him, and Amita joins on his other side. The bed is all too comfortable after a long night. They press against him warmly and Ajay absently strokes whatever parts his hands happen to lay on; Sabal’s hip and Amita’s back.

“Sabal aside, that was nice Ajay,” Amita murmurs against him. Ajay hums in agreement. “I have to admit, I didn't expect something like that from you.”

“You were very commanding, brother,” Sabal says. “It was very attractive.” Again, Ajay hums an answer and they quietly wrap their arms around him and kiss him softly from shoulder to neck to face. He feels a little claustrophobic like this but they're warm and he's too tired to care too much.

“Don't touch me,” Amita huffs, moving her arm away from Sabal’s.

“Gladly,” Sabal scoffs back.

Fortunately, Ajay will sleep through nearly anything and he's out like a light near on command. When he awakens, they're fast asleep. He looks at his watch, yawns, then untangle himself from between them. He's dressed and out the door with his things again in only a few minutes, leaving behind his two datemates dead asleep. They'll be mad later when they wake up without a buffer but they're usually mad so it's not really a loss.

They'll do this again sometime.

-

“Is he in there?” Amita asks.

“I don't see him,” Sabal murmurs. They hurry in at once, taking another short look around to confirm this before hastily going through Ajay's things. “Quickly, Amita.”

“You don't think I know that?” Amita huffs back as they search. “Found it.”

“Good, good,” Sabal says as he comes to her side to watch her look through the camera. She flips through the pictures as quickly as it will let her.

“These are all dead bodies,” she murmurs. “Where are the pictures?”

“Ajay really likes taking pictures of dead bodies,” Sabal comments. Alright, enough of this.

“What are you doing?” Ajay asks and they both jump, Amita quickly shoving the camera into Sabal’s hands who quickly shoves it back into hers. They look at him and Ajay stares back, highly unamused. He knows what this is about, of course, since they've literally never tried to do this before. Surprising, especially when Ajay forced them out of their leadership roles, but he supposes when that happened they just went in for the kill instead- quite literally.

Ajay holds his hand out and Amita hands him his camera back.

“Sorry, brother,” Sabal says. “We didn't mean to-”

“I already deleted them,” Ajay cuts him off. They both blink in surprise. “Did you really think I was going to keep pictures of you two naked on me at all times.”

“I- guess not,” Amita says slowly. “We just wanted to be sure, though.” Ajay continues not to look amused and they look away sheepishly.

“You two need to learn to trust each other more,” he says. “And me, apparently. Meet me at my homestead in three days, seven in the evening.”

They blush, from the ears and neck.


End file.
